


Baking My Way Into Your Heart - Extras

by theSilence



Series: Mr. Hale and Stilinator [2]
Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Alternate POVs, M/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2012-12-05
Updated: 2013-09-17
Packaged: 2017-11-20 08:44:58
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 19,541
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/583431
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/theSilence/pseuds/theSilence
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>If you haven't read Baking My Way Into Your Heart, then this probably won't make any sense. Some bonus material from the main story.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. From Unexpected Part II

**Author's Note:**

  * Translation into Italiano available: [Baking My Way Into Your Heart - Extras](https://archiveofourown.org/works/2271561) by [EsseandBi](https://archiveofourown.org/users/EsseandBi/pseuds/EsseandBi)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Stiles' POV during Derek's stay at the Stilinski home.

Stiles collapsed into his father's bed, tired after an exciting day of events. Clicking off the bedside lamp, he reached for Sourwolf, hugging him to his chest as he let his eyes droop in their sleepiness. He pulled the comforter over his shoulder and buried his face in his pillow, breathing in the comforting scent of his father's aftershave. Although he wished he could have spent the day with his dad, he couldn't complain about getting the chance to spend more time with Derek.

Admittedly, he was surprised by the sudden invite to dinner, but he was also very grateful. He was never very fond of being home alone, so getting a chance to go out with company was like a God's send. It was made all the more amusing by Derek's family.

Stiles snickered to himself, remembering Peter's comment about bakers being good with their hands and tongues. He snickered again at the way the comment had startled poor Derek. The older boy was clearly embarrassed by nearly everything his uncle had said, but Stiles found Peter quite the comedian.

And Laura was pretty sassy herself. She reminded him a bit of Lydia. He actually couldn't believe that someone like her was terrified by the same movie he had been when he first watched 'The Ring.'

'But to be fair, that movie is freakin' scary. The way that girl climbed out of the well and just slowly did that creepy walk towards the screen. Oh my God. And then suddenly, she was no longer just in the TV, she was actually climbing  _out_  of the TV!'

Stiles popped his eyes back open, frowning as he tried to see in the dark. 'It's okay. It was just a movie… I didn't even  _watch_ it tonight.' But the image of the girl was clear as if he had.

He shut his eyes tightly, squeezing his wolf against him, pulling his blanket up over his head. 'There is no creepy girl out there- There is no creepy girl out there-' He repeated the mantra in his head, but it didn't help his heart from speeding up. Stiles curled up tighter. Maybe if he made himself smaller, no evil little girls could find him.

He tried to forget the movie. He tried to get the image out of his mind. But despite being hidden under the blanket, he felt utterly exposed. Like maybe something would reach out and touch his back.

Stiles shot up in bed, not liking that idea at all. He scrambled over to the bedside lamp, fumbling for the switch, nearly knocking it down in the process. The room flooded with light as Stiles drew his legs up and hid behind his wolf as he peeked around the room.

'Calm down. The room is empty. There's no one in here but me.' Even though he knew this to be true, he couldn't help but be paranoid. 'But what if I'm  _not_  alone in this room? What if there's someone hiding in the closet?'

His eyes darted to the closed door as he bit nervously on his lip. 'No, no, no…' he inwardly whimpered. 'What if someone is  _watching_  me through the slats of the door?'

This was not good. This was not good at all. He couldn't do this. Sleep did not seem like an option at this particular moment in time. 'Maybe… maybe Derek is still awake,' Stiles sucked in an air of relief. 'Yeah! That's good! Derek will help me forget that stupid movie. We'll play cards again and we'll talk and everything will be okay. I need Derek.'

Casting one last glance at the closed closet door, Stiles leapt out of bed and scurried to the door, hand sliding against the wall in the darkened hallway to find the light switch. Flipping it on, he hurried back in the room to turn off the bedside lamp and then hurried back into the light. Stiles made his way to his bedroom, opening the door as quietly as he could.

"Derek?" he whispered into the dark. "Derek, you awake?"

Stiles slipped into the room, going over to his desk where he knew a deck of cards would be sitting. With Sourwolf under one arm and the cards in his hand, he was prepared to wake up his sleeping friend. He looked towards his bed and blinked. No. Oh no. That couldn't be right.

Derek was gone.

'Oh shit!' Stiles said, flailing around for the light switch. As the room flooded with light, his heart only sped up realizing Derek was nowhere to be found.

'Maybe my eyes are playing tricks on me. Maybe he's actually under the covers.' The cards fell from his hand as he hurried to the bed to pull back the blanket. It was no good. The bed was empty.

'Did someone get him? Is he okay? Where is he? Is he hurt? Oh no, is he  _dead_? Derek, where  _are_ you?'

There was a hitch in his breathing as he felt a panic attack coming on. 'No, not  _now_. I need to find Derek!'

With the blanket still in his hand, Stiles ran out of the room and flew down the stairs. He reached for the light in the downstairs hall. Just as he was going to grab his shoes, he saw a figure on the couch.

His initial reaction was fear. 'There's a stranger on my couch!' But soon, he began to recognize the person lying there. 'It's Derek. Is he okay?' Stiles made his way over, the shine from the hall lighting the way. Stiles bent over the back of the couch, holding his hand out just under Derek's nose to make sure his friend was still breathing. Stiles sighed in relief. He was. Nothing bad had happened to Derek. He was just sleeping.

'Okay, so maybe I overreacted a little bit. Nothing bad is gonna happen to Derek. He's strong. He can take care of himself like he did today in the woods.' Stiles sat down on the back of the couch, watching his sleeping friend. 'That was pretty awesome though. That boar was freakin' huge. I bet if he wanted to, Derek probably could have wrestled that thing into submission.' He chuckled to himself.

Stiles got off the couch and walked over to the other side to get a better look at the sleeping figure. He traced his finger between Derek's eyebrows, over the frown lines that were invisible now due to his relaxed state. 'He's usually scowling,' Stiles mused. Finally letting go of the blanket and setting Sourwolf down beside him, Stiles lightly pressed his forefingers to the corners of Derek's mouth, pushing them down into a frown. He laughed to himself, seeing the familiar sight. He pushed them upward this time, forcing Derek to smile. This only made Stiles laugh even more. He withdrew one finger and moved the other just below Derek's bottom lip. He moved it up and down, making his mouth open and close.

"My name is Mr. Hale and I'm gonna huff and I'm gonna puff and I'm gonna eat all your cake! Muahahaha! Oh what? What was that? I don't understand your awesome and totally relevant pop culture references but I understand Marvel references because I wanna be just like Wolverine. Got it, bub?"

He brought his other hand back up, pushing Derek's nose up lightly as he made sniffing noises. "Hm? What is that? What is that smell? Is that…  _lemon_? Ooh I looooove lemon. Please Stiles. My body is ready if you just give me a delicious lemony treat. Better yet, I'll eat it off you and it'll be two treats in one."

Stiles was cracking up now. Part of him knew it was wrong to be messing with Derek in his sleep while the other part was just plain dumbstruck that the older boy could even sleep through something like this. Stiles pulled his hands back, resting his chin on his arms as he leaned against the couch. He studied Derek some more. He listened to his even breathing, watched the steady rise and fall of his chest.

Stiles smiled. 'He's even cool when he sleeps.'

Stiles moved one arm back out, unable to resist the urge to touch. He traced one finger lightly over a sharp cheekbone then down to the pronounced jaw. Then he ran his thumb against the stubble there, each strand scratchy against his skin. He tucked his arm back under his chin and sighed.

"I'm gonna tell you a little secret okay?" Stiles whispered. "I really really like you, Derek. I sometimes feel like I act a little too clingy, but I can't help it. I just really like being with you. You make me happy." He sighed again, his soft smile falling from his face. "I… I hope that one day… maybe… maybe you'll like me too."

Stiles adjusted himself so that he was up on his knees, looking down at Derek's sleeping face. He brushed the back of his hand against Derek's cheek, caressing it softly. Then, leaning in, he placed the faintest of kisses on the corner of Derek's lips, not daring to move further than that.

"Good night, Derek," he breathed, once he pulled away.

Stiles reached for the blanket, draping it over the older boy, before standing, picking up his wolf, and making his way back up the stairs. He made it all the way to his dad's bedroom door before he froze, the thoughts from earlier resurfacing. Stiles bit his lip.

'M-maybe Derek wouldn't mind…'

He went back to his room, shut off the light and closed the door behind him. Then he turned off the light in the hall before making his way back downstairs. Finally, he shut off the hallway light, submerging himself in darkness as he crept back over to the couch. He was just about to slide in next to Derek when he remembered what was behind him.

Feeling his heart thumping in his chest, Stiles gave in to his ridiculous urge, walked over to the TV and moved it so that the screen was facing down. Had he been in his room, that thing would be back to facing the open window, staring at a twelve-foot drop. Satisfied, Stiles lifted up the covers and slipped in next to Derek.

There wasn't exactly a lot of room to begin with, so Stiles did the best he could to squeeze in. He turned on his side, hugging Sourwolf once more.

It was then, when Stiles was teetering on the edge of the couch, that Derek finally moved, adjusting his position on the couch so that he, too, was more on his side. Stiles was able to scoot forward. He smiled before closing his eyes to finally let sleep take him away. A few quiet moments later, he nearly jumped out of his skin when he felt two arms wrap around him. Stiles felt himself being pulled in so that he didn't really have a choice but to use Derek's chest as a pillow.

"Derek?" Stiles said, looking up. The boy in question was still sound asleep. Stiles smiled. He pulled the blanket over his shoulder and buried his face in his pillow, breathing in the comforting scent of pure Derek. Then, safe from the shadows in the arms of his protector, Stiles finally went to sleep.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sometimes when I write from one character's POV, I still have thoughts on what other characters say, do, or think, but since it doesn't go with the story, those thoughts stay in my head. That was the case with this part. But then Izaya91 asked to see Stiles' POV during this part, so I figured 'why not?' So I wrote it out and sent it through a PM haha. And then they asked if I was going to post it for other people to read. So again, I figured 'why not?' And here you have it. So if you like it, you should thank Izaya91 haha.
> 
> Also, if you have any other suggestions, feel free to ask. Who knows? You might see it here.


	2. From Linger

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Isaac's POV during Stiles' birthday party. One-sided Scisaac.

Isaac was assigned beverage duty the night of Stiles' surprise party. He was stacking some more red Solo cups as the night drew nearer to the birthday boy's arrival.

"Hey Isaac. Can I get one of those?" Danny said, coming up to him with his laptop in tow. He had his eyes glued to the screen.

"Here you go," the blonde said, handing one over. "Any sign of him?"

He shook his head. "Not yet." The brunette's eyebrows shot up as he poured himself a drink. "Oh hey! That looks like Derek."

Isaac looked over his friend's shoulder to peer at the screen. There was no mistaking that fluff of hair and black leather jacket. Isaac smirked. "So he decided to come after all." He glanced at the time on Danny's laptop. "He's cutting it pretty close."

Danny snickered. "Fashionably late. It's good that Scott managed to reach him, though. I think Stiles will be glad to see him here."

"What? Like  _you're_  not?" Isaac teased.

"Hey. Now, while I  _will_  admit that I think Derek is  _very_  attractive, I'll have you know that's as far as it goes."

Isaac just smiled. "All right, all right."

"Besides. That guy only has eyes for the birthday boy."

Isaac scoffed, amused. "Truer words have never been spoken."

The pair laughed just as the doorbell rang, revealing the older boy.

"Hey," Jackson popped up, reaching to grab a cup for himself before glancing over his best friend's shoulder to look at the screen. "God, Danny. As fuckin' brilliant as you are, sometimes you're just creepy. Like, if you can hack into the elevator feed, what else have you been watching?"

"This coming from the guy who wanted me to watch a video of him sleeping? I told you before, don't lump me in with your own twisted fetishes."

" _Hey_. I thought I was sleepwalking!" Jackson growled.

Danny laughed. "Too bad it was just Stiles dragging your ass out of bed and leaving you in random places."

Isaac laughed at the memory. "Jesus, Jackson. How deep of a sleeper  _are_  you?"

"He  _drugged_  me those times."

"And that's what you get for messing with the guy's Adderall," Danny shrugged.

"It was  _once_."

"You switched it with caffeine pills! He was up for almost 48 hours, you jackass!" Danny berated his friend.

"W-well…" Jackson sputtered. "I  _apologized_  for that."

Isaac just shook his head. Jackson and Stiles were dangerous together, and they were  _friends_. He briefly wondered what sort of things they'd do to each other if they actually  _hated_  one another.

"Oh! That's him!" Danny said, excitedly. "Guys! He's on his way up!"

"Everyone shut up! Jackson! Turn off the music!" Lydia called out from somewhere else in the room.

Jackson darted away from his friends to do just that. They were shrouded in darkness as Lydia hit the lights. Danny disconnected the feed before shutting off his laptop.

Isaac heard a little bit of rustling here and there before the room went still as Stiles unlocked the door. The blonde grinned to himself, excited in anticipation. Stiles was going to love this. The boy slipped into the apartment and flipped on the light switch.

"Surprise!" Isaac yelled along with the rest of the room.

" _Holy_   _shit!_ "

Isaac laughed at Stiles' reaction as he made his way over to him with a drink for him in his hand. "Happy birthday, man." He smiled, handing the cup to Stiles.

"Oh man, this is great!" Stiles smiled before pulling Isaac into a hug, patting him heartily on the back. He took a sip from the cup. "Ooh and this is even greater," he grinned from ear-to-ear. "Isaac, you are  _king_. Someone get me another one of these!" He half-joked, pointing at the cup.

"Stiiiiiiiiiles!"

The boy was literally attacked by one Scott McCall, as the messy-haired boy leapt on his friend, smothering him in a hug. Isaac chuckled at his friend's exuberance.

He watched as Stiles got swept away in a mass of birthday greetings, hugs and high-fives. He made his way back towards the drinks, ready to make one for himself. Soon, the music kicked back in and people started to dance once more.

Isaac was content just watching the room. He had never been the most social of people, finding himself preferring the company of a few good friends than surrounding himself with many acquaintances. Scanning the room, he spotted Derek.

'Speaking of socially challenged…' he smirked to himself, taking another sip of his drink.

He liked Derek. They had taken a history class together last semester, although they never spoke. Derek was always the quiet guy sitting in the back of the room, paying apt attention, always scribbling down a few notes. Quite frankly, seeing that guy with Stiles in the coffee shop that first day was probably the first time he'd ever seen Derek talk to  _any_ one.

He glanced around again, taking note in how Derek was just standing by the presents, eyes trained on the birthday boy. 'And it looks like he's not gonna talk to anyone here, either…' he smirked again. 'Could he  _be_  any more obvious?'

Isaac decided to make his way over, picking up another drink to give to the older boy. "Hey Derek."

Derek finally broke eye contact from the figure across the room and looked over his shoulder. "Hey Isaac," he said, nodding in greeting.

"Here," he said, handing Derek the red Solo cup before drinking from his own.

Derek looked confused for a second before he just shook his head and put the cup down. "I wasn't planning on staying long."

'That's surprising. I thought he'd want to hang out with Stiles.' Isaac thought. He was curious. "Oh? How come?"

"I've got a paper to write."

'Lame.' Isaac snorted. "That's what the weekend is for." He picked the cup back up and handed it to Derek once more. "Lighten up a bit, huh?"

Derek rolled his eyes. "I also don't like parties."

Isaac laughed. "That doesn't surprise me in the slightest. But you're here anyway, so try to have a good time." He eyed Derek carefully. He mentally shrugged, wanting to test his theory. "If not for yourself, then do it for the birthday boy," he added, nodding in Stiles' direction. Isaac was almost positive that Derek would change his mind if he thought it would make Stiles happy. That guy had it bad.

Eventually, Derek sighed. "Fine," he said, finally drinking from the cup Isaac had handed him.

Isaac smirked. He loved being right. "Attaboy."

He had said it once, and he'd say it again. He liked Derek. The guy was quiet and calculating. It was like he didn't do  _anything_  without purpose. And he did this thing with a single look that made Isaac feel like he needed to take a step back and hold his tongue. Like if he said or did anything more, he'd get in serious trouble and Isaac didn't exactly know why but he was compelled to stay on Derek's good side.

Beyond that, Isaac also felt like he related to Derek. For one, the most obvious way, was that they were both focused on the same course of study.  _Finally_ , Isaac had someone to talk to about sociological positivism and differential association. And since Derek had already taken several of the classes that Isaac had yet to take, talking to him was like talking to one of the professors since he already knew and understood the material.

Secondly, Isaac related to Derek's introverted ways. He wasn't the most sociable person either, at least not how Scott or Stiles was. And to be thrown into this environment, surrounded by people he most likely didn't even know, Isaac was sure Derek was feeling a bit like a fish out of water. It wasn't all that long ago that Isaac felt the same way. So Isaac took it upon himself to befriend the older boy, to make him feel more comfortable in this new situation. And it seemed like he was doing pretty well. Derek looked less like he was going to run out the door at any given moment and more relaxed – or about as relaxed as the older boy could be.

And finally, and probably most importantly as it endeared Derek to Isaac the most, Isaac could relate to Derek in that he knew what it was like to be head-over-heels in love with someone. Of course, at this point, Isaac knew and acknowledged his feelings while Derek seemed stuck in the river denial.

Isaac glanced at his own crush, smiling happily with friends across the room.

Scott. Scott McCall. Scott was the Stiles to Isaac's Derek.

He couldn't exactly place what it was about the boy that he was so drawn to. Maybe it was the way Scott seemed so excited about everything. He had such a fresh outlook on life, a complete contrast to the apathy of Isaac's own. Scott was friendly, outgoing, carefree. He was always quick to help a friend and always moved with the best intentions. He was loyal to a fault and had no mind for self-preservation when a friend was in need. He was, in many ways, what Isaac was not. And that, perhaps, was just the thing that pulled Isaac in.

It was actually Scott who had brought him into their little group to begin with. He knew the guys from the lacrosse team back in high school, but he never would have thought they could be friends until Scott had actually started talking to him. He started spending more time with him, deepening their friendship. At first, Stiles resented him, feeling like Isaac was trying to take away his best friend. But, being as ridiculously clever and observant as he was, Stiles figured it out. He figured it out before Isaac really realized it himself. That Isaac liked Scott as more than just a friend. And once he figured that out, Isaac was no longer a threat. In fact, their own friendship seemed to strengthen after that.

He couldn't actually place when friendliness grew to attraction. But before he knew it, Isaac found himself seeking Scott's attention, finding a need to just be near him. He soaked up his warmth, the light he emitted. The warmth felt good to him after having felt cold for so long.

But then Allison happened. And of course Isaac was happy for Scott. He genuinely cared for her, and she for him. But it didn't mean it didn't hurt to see them together. Isaac had to pretend to smile whenever he saw them together. He had to pretend to be okay whenever Scott bailed on their plans to be with her. He had to pretend to be happy that the guy he was in love with was in love with someone else. It was only with Stiles that he allowed himself to hurt. It was only in solitude that he allowed himself to mourn.

Eventually though, Isaac learned to deal with it, to find true happiness for his friend. Allison really was a good person. If he had to watch Scott moon over  _any_ one, he was glad it was her. She made him happy in ways Isaac could not. It might've taken some time, but Isaac found he no longer needed to pretend. He  _could_  smile seeing them together. And if Scott bailed, he now had Stiles to hang out with considering Scott had likely bailed on him as well. It hurt less to see them together to where all he felt was elation for his friends. And while Scott's smile could still cause Isaac's breath to hitch in just the slightest of ways, Isaac was content in knowing that while he didn't have Scott's heart the way that Allison did, Scott  _did_  have a special place in it reserved just for him.

But still, even today, Isaac was still drawn to Scott. Perhaps not as intensely as he was through high school, but the attraction was certainly still there. He still smiled whenever Scott was near. He still preferred his company above all others. He still knew what it was like to be head-over-heels for someone who felt out of reach.

Isaac glanced back at Derek. He smiled softly to himself, recognizing the older boy's attraction for Stiles as he stared at the birthday boy once more. Isaac shook his head. 'I wonder when he'll accept his own feelings. There's no point in trying to hide from them.'

Eventually, Isaac snapped out of his own thoughts in favor of finding food. He made his way over to the kitchen, Derek trailing behind.

"Sorry," he heard Derek say.

Isaac turned around. Apparently he had bumped into someone.

"Mm, honey, with cheekbones like that, you don't have to apologize for nothing."

'Oh it's Chastity…' Isaac recalled. He smiled at her in greeting while he tried not to laugh at the look of confusion on Derek's face. 'Does he not know that she's a he?' he wondered. Derek seemed stuck, apparently thrown by the masculine woman, so Isaac just pulled him along by the arm over to where the food was. He grabbed a drink for himself and popped a pretzel in his mouth.

"Isaac… is it just me or are there a lot of drag queens in here?"

'Ah. So he's finally noticed.' He was just about to answer when the object of his affections popped up out of nowhere, grinning like the drunken fool that he was.

"There  _are_  a lot of drag queens in here," he said, matter-of-factly, taking hold of the cup in Isaac's hand and drinking from it, his warm fingers brushing against Isaac's own.

"Easy boy," Isaac chuckled, doubting Scott needed any more to drink. Even under the dim lights, he could still see the red flush of Scott's cheeks. He turned to answer Derek. "Yeah, we all went to a gay bar for Danny's birthday."

"Yeah! It was drag night so Jackson dared Stiles to enter the contest and of course Stiles was gonna enter if  _Jackson_  dared him."

Isaac held his drink above his head when Scott tried to take it again, chuckling inwardly at the boy's attempts to reach it. He would never admit out loud how much the brush of Scott's hand on his chest really affected him. "Anyway, Stiles lost.  _Completely_ ," Isaac continued, trying to distract himself from Scott's touch and the way it still made his heart race. "He looked ridiculous, actually. But the ladies there loved it and found him adorable. And there you go. Instant friends."

"Oh! Oh!" Having forgotten his goal to reach the drink, an idea came to Scott. "I think he still has the stuff! I'll go-"

Isaac watched Scott dash off to the other side of the room where Stiles was, a little sad to see him go. 'The stuff…?' he wondered. 'Oh, he's gonna ask him to put on the dress!' he grinned to himself, amused. When he saw the pair disappear into Stiles' room, he  _knew_  they were about to get a show.

Sure enough, Stiles came out in his dress and wig, earning catcalls and whistles as he paraded around in it. Isaac snickered. 'Only Stiles.'

"You're still ugly as hell, Stilinski!"

"Stop talking about your face, Jackson!" Stiles yelled back.

Isaac glanced over to where Jackson was dancing with Lydia, seeing him roll his eyes at Stiles' response. 'Those two… if I didn't know any better, I'd swear they were the ones secretly in love.' He glanced back at Derek. 'Speaking of which…'

The older boy was distracted again, eyes back on Stiles, before he burst into laughter.

It surprised Isaac. 'So stoic boy can laugh after all…' he smiled to himself. 'I wonder what it'll take to get him to confess to Stiles. Hell… I wonder what it'll take to get him to confess it to himself.'

Throughout the rest of the night, Isaac found that Derek was loosening up more and more. He actually made conversation with other people, allowed them near enough to slip things in his pockets. A few times, Isaac swatted them away. If he couldn't have the boy he wanted, he sure as Hell was going to try to help Derek get his. Everyone else was just an unneeded distraction, and damn it, one of them deserved to get the boy of his dreams. He needed to know that guys like him and Derek could find happiness with people like Scott and Stiles. He needed that hope.

Finally, when the party was dying down and Isaac found himself getting too tired to go back to his apartment, he glanced around the room one last time. Jackson and Lydia had fallen asleep on the couch. He laughed quietly to himself seeing Stiles' wig on Jackson's head. Danny was clearing up a bit of the mess, gathering empty red Solo cups and tossing them in a bag.

He looked over to where Scott and Allison were, both looking tired, yet content, slow dancing while holding each other close. Scott was running his hand through Allison's hair as she caressed the back of his neck, fingering the short strands there. It was bittersweet. Isaac was happy for them –  _both_ of them. He genuinely cared for both of his friends and wanted nothing more than their continued bliss.

But when Scott glanced over, turning soft brown eyes onto him, before giving him a gentle smile, Isaac felt his heart skip a beat, as it always did when Scott smiled at him. And despite his want for their happiness, in those moments, he found himself wanting happiness for himself. He found himself wishing that maybe he had said something to Scott first, or maybe he realized his own truth first. He couldn't help but wonder what it might've been like if he were the one dancing with Scott all night, his hands caressing his sides while feeling Scott's hands in his hair. What would it be like if Scott loved him in return?

Slipping away, trying to find some place to lay his head, Isaac thought about Derek and Stiles once more. He poked his head into Stiles' room, looking around when he noticed the bed was empty. He had half a mind to wonder where the birthday boy had gone, but vaguely recalled both he and Derek stepping outside on the balcony. Maybe they were out there talking, finally, as they had danced in their own way around each other all night.

Too tired to care about taking Stiles' bed, he kicked off his shoes, toed off his socks and collapsed onto the empty mattress. As he pulled the blanket up over his shoulder, he spared one last thought for all of his friends. He wished nothing more than happiness for them all. And as he closed his eyes and drifted away, he spared one last wish for himself, to find a happiness and bliss of his own.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> An anon from tumblr asked to see Isaac's POV during the party. I think of Isaac as a sort of quiet guardian. He may come off aloof sometimes, but really, I think he's got deep feelings that he doesn't really allow anyone to see. I'm a fan of Scisaac. And of Scallison. And of scallops (lol irrelevant). And while part of me likes to see Scott and Allison happy with one another, I like to think that maybe somewhere down the line, they may go their separate ways, amicably. And that maybe one day when Isaac is just hanging out with Scott, maybe Scott will just take one look at Isaac, see him there, see how he's always been there, and it'll just hit him. He'll finally realize that yes, he loved Allison all those years and it was beautiful and wonderful. It was his first love, puppy love. But this, the quiet dedication, and the unspoken promise to always be there, this is a true and deep love. And then Scott will finally realize that this love that he sees coming from Isaac's quiet gaze, is exactly how he feels when he looks at him in return.
> 
> Yeah. Scisaac feels.


	3. From Booked Part I

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Stiles' POV during his study session with Derek and Erica.

_Won't be walking you home tonight. Studying with Erica._

Stiles stared at the words on the screen of phone for what seemed like the thousandth time since he'd gotten them hours ago. He had tried typing out a reply; a quick ' _ok no problemo'_ or ' _see ya tmrrow thn!'_ or even an ' _ok! frndly remindr: shes got a bf!'_  Any of those would do. But he found that each time he had typed one out, he couldn't send it. He didn't  _want_  to send it because quite frankly, he  _wasn't_  okay with it. He was downright  _jealous_.

When Derek had suggested that they stopped seeing each other, it felt like his heart had dropped into his stomach as a million thoughts of 'what did I do wrong?' shot through his head. Of course, Derek hadn't meant it in that way. He had only meant that during finals, they should concentrate on their studies. And Stiles totally understood that. He didn't exactly  _like_ it, but he understood it.

So then when Stiles made his way to Derek's classroom after his Lit class, only to hear Erica Reyes say "-at 6. We can meet up after that," it certainly piqued his curiosity. It didn't even faze him when she ran her hand across his cheek because he'd been so curious as to what she had meant. And then when he asked Derek about it, finding out that he chose her as his study buddy was pretty alarming.

Stiles shoved his phone in his pocket and slumped down into his seat, not even paying attention to what his professor was talking about. He would probably just get the missing notes from Brian, his own study buddy. He sighed.

'So us spending less time together means he can go spend time with  _her_ ,' Stiles thought, a scowl forming on his face. 'Okay, so they're actually  _studying_ together which is what the whole 'stop seeing each other' thing was about. But her? Why her? Why did he have to pick someone with such big boobs? Is that his thing? Was he really serious that time when he said he liked big busty blondes? Is  _that_  why he picked her? So he could stare at her busty-ness and blondeness?'

His leg began to fidget up and down, as chewing on his bottom lip became a thing with every passing thought.

Stiles glanced at his watch. It was almost 8. He still had a half an hour of class left. 'They're probably studying together right now. But… what if they're  _done_  with the studying? What if they've moved on from studying to having sex? What if they're having sex right now?!'

He sat upright, burying his face in his hands as both legs began to jitter. 'No, no, no. That's ridiculous. First of all, she has a boyfriend. And second of all, it's finals week. Derek wouldn't waste his time having sex when there's studying he has to do. But…' Stiles folded his hands together, pressing them against his lips. 'Logically, sex would be a great stress reliever for all the pressure of finals. He could've probably used that idea to seduce her into his bed. Hell! Like he would even need to use seduction! Just sitting across from him and  _looking_  at him would have _any_ one stripping down at his whim! Oh God, what if that's his whim? When was the last time he got laid? What if he wants a one off? Damn it, Derek! Not with her! I'd gladly-'

Stiles shook his head, this line of thinking getting him nowhere. He glanced at his watch again. It had only been a minute since the last time he checked it. 'Oh my God, this class is never gonna end!' He flopped down, burying his face in his arms on his desk, his legs doing double time. 'I'm being ridiculous, aren't I? He's not sleeping with her. And I should give her more credit. She probably wouldn't just give it up, especially since she's with that guy. Unless they broke up.  _Did_ they break up? Oh my God, they're having rebound sex!'

Stiles couldn't handle it anymore. He shoved his things into his backpack and ran for the door, not caring about the looks he got or the way the professor called out to him. Swinging his backpack on, he reached into his pocket, pulled out his phone and was ready to dial Derek's number to check up on him and to hear his voice. But what Stiles really wanted was to see his face. Just seeing Derek made Stiles relax, calm down. He was just about to call to tell the older boy his plans of visiting when another thought came to him.

'What if he says no? I mean, I miss him and I wanna see him, but  _I'm_  not the one that wanted to spend less time together. If he doesn't want me to come over, he'll have no problem saying so.' Stiles slipped his phone back into his pocket, a frown marring his face. Then he felt his keys in his pocket. He felt Derek's  _apartment key_  in his pocket.

Stiles fingered the tiny metal object, running the pad of his thumb over its sharp ridges. 'I could go there. I could go there right now and take a little peek at what they're doing. I could see for myself just what they're  _not_  doing.' Stiles bit his bottom lip again, pretty sure they were borderline ready to bleed at this point. 'Would it be weird to just show up? I could… I could say I'm there to help them study! I could show them my technique! And in the process, I could bake something for him too. That always gets him happy. Happy with  _me_  and no one else,' Stiles smiled confidently, pleased with this fact.

As he made his way out of the building, his eyes immediately darted to the planter where Derek usually sat waiting for him. Although he knew he wasn't going to be there, Stiles couldn't help but hope that maybe he showed up anyway. He let out a sigh of disappointment. He didn't.

'Which means he's at home studying with that Erica girl.' Before his brain could rebuild the different scenarios that could potentially be playing out in Derek's apartment, Stiles ran towards his own, needing to pick up a few things.

"Hey buddy," came Scott's voice as Stiles threw the door open, tossing his backpack somewhere in the living room.

"No time! Gotta run!" Stiles flailed, grabbing a bag and throwing in the various ingredients he needed. "Ummm… ginger! Ginger cookies. He'll like ginger cookies. Ginger is a bit tart like lemon. He'll like 'em."

"You baking for Mr. Hale again?" Scott deduced, coming to watch his friend scramble around the kitchen.

"He's studying with that Erica girl. I figure they could use a little snack break."

"Mm-hmm," Scott snorted, picking up the jar of crystallized ginger and twirling it in his hands. "You're really just going there to spy on them, aren't you?"

"Nonsense," Stiles frowned, grabbing the jar from his friend and putting it back in the bag. "You need food to get the brain working at its fullest potential."

"Yeah, sure. Is  _that_  why you're out early from class? To make sure Derek's  _brain_  is working at its 'fullest potential'? Cause the way I see it, it looks like you're going over there to spy on them."

Stiles scoffed, pausing to shake his head at his friend. "Well… you're  _wrong_."

"So you  _aren't_  freaking out about Mr. Hale being alone in his apartment with a pretty girl?"

"Pffft. No."

"You're  _not_  thinking about how he could be using his  _hip action_  to its 'fullest potential'?"

Stiles darted his eyes away, a mental image coming to mind.

" _Thrusting-_ "

Stiles snatched up the bag and ran for the door. "You're a terrible friend!"

"It keeps me up at night."

"No cookies for you!"

"I love you, buddy!"

Stiles shook his head as the door to the apartment closed behind him. He ran the whole way to Derek's apartment, trying to get the image of Derek's 'hip action' out of his mind, or at least reserving it for later for personal use.

Once he was standing just outside the door, Stiles paused to catch his breath, calm down, and mentally prepare himself for anything he might be walking in on. 'It's okay. It'll be okay. I'm probably making a big deal out of nothing. Derek's not that kind of guy. He wouldn't just invite some girl he goes to school with back to his place for some stress relief, right?' He nodded to himself as if agreeing with the accuracy of his own thought. He exhaled, steeled himself, put the key in the door and opened it.

"Stiles?"

The boy looked over to where the two were sitting amongst a slew of papers, notebooks and textbooks at the kitchen table.

"Hey cutie," Erica smiled.

Stiles breathed a sigh of relief. 'Okay good. They're  _not_ having rebound sex. They're just studying after all.' He grinned, genuinely happy and reassured, and waved at the studying pair. "How's the studying coming along?"

"Good. We could use a break though, right?" She asked, standing up to stretch.

He saw Derek nod slightly as he made his way into the kitchen. "Stiles, what are you doing here?" he asked.

'Chaperoning,' Stiles inwardly smiled. 'Making sure your hands keep away from her gonzagas. Making sure your penis stays in your pants. Making sure- oh right, I should answer.' "I am here to help. I told you. My sure-fire way to help get you to remember your facts."

"I didn't know you meant today.  _Now_."

"Well, maybe Erica can find it useful, too," he said, reaching for an excuse.

"How considerate of you," she smirked.

Stiles set his bag down on the counter, arranging his ingredients as Erica came to sit across from him. 'Ask about her boyfriend!' Stiles thought. 'If she's still with her boyfriend then there's no need to worry about rebound sex!' He calmly looked to her. "How's your boyfriend?"

"Boyd? He's good. Wasn't really comfortable with the idea that I'd be here. Alone. With Derek. But otherwise good."

'That's a relief,' Stiles breathed, feeling his shoulders relax a bit. 'And that's no surprise. I'm not comfortable with the idea at all either. But good for you Erica! You didn't give in to Derek's sexy 'come hither' ways. Liking you better already.'

"What's there to be uncomfortable about?" Derek frowned, strutting his way from the table to take a seat next to the girl. "We're just studying."

'Oh Derek, how can you be so dense? Are you really  _that_  unaware of how attractive you are?' Stiles was smiling contently at said attractive boy. '…Oops, was I staring? Better play it off…' "Derek, if you had a fine looking woman like Erica," he winked at her, earning himself a smirk, "you'd be concerned about leaving her alone with  _any_  man, even if they are ' _just_ studying'."

"My, oh my, cutie pie," Erica playfully swooned. "You sure do know how to talk to a lady."

'Mission accomplished. And ooh, I like her. She's fun,' he smiled. Then he looked at her, face trained into a serious expression. "I also do dishes."

"Good," she replied, equally solemn. "You can do that while Rufus and I kick Ryu's ass."

Stiles gasped. "Oh my God,  _Street Fighter_  reference! Marry me!"

"Sorry cutie. Already taken," she smirked.

'Well, good,' Stiles thought, 'cause so am I. He just doesn't know it yet.' He glanced at Derek, heart warming just at the sight of him. 'I'm gonna marry you some day Derek, even if I have to get ordained online and perform the ceremony while you're asleep.' He mentally snickered at the thought before digging through the cabinets to find the things he needed to make his cookies. Pulling away from thoughts of Derek in a wedding dress, he got his mind back on track. "Okay, so what sort of things are you guys studying up on?"

"Ooh, hang on," Erica said, hopping off her seat to grab the review sheet. She read the next thing on the list. "We read a myth called  _The Bride and the Monster_. In it, there's this thing called the _Moselantja._  It's this creature with a long tail that has a mouth on the end."

"Oh perfect," Stiles said, reaching into his bag and pulling out a cinnamon stick. "This cinnamon stick is long and kinda looks like it has a mouth, which are the two features you remember _MOSEly_  on the  _Moselantja_." Stiles grinned. "You get it? It's best to associate an image with the things you're trying to remember. And once you remember the image, you can remember – what I like to call – your 'power statement.' I also find it works even better with things you can remember through taste and smell." He ground a bit of the stick until it was fine before dipping his finger in and popping it into his mouth. "Therefore, cinnamon.  _M_ - _Mose… Mosley-_ "

" _Moselantja,"_  she supplied, dipping her own finger in and tasting the cinnamon.

'Yeah! She's got it!' He looked to Derek, holding out the cinnamon for him to taste, reminding himself to concentrate on the work and not on the way Derek's tongue brushed against his finger. He looked back at Erica because Derek's face alone was just too much of a distraction. "Now when you think of the myth, you'll think of cinnamon. And then you'll remember the cinnamon stick which kind of looks like the features of a moose-ly-ja. Okay, what's the next thing?"

"The three brothers: Zeus, Poseidon, and Hades. They should be pretty easy to remember, right?" she said, looking to Derek. "Zeus of the skies."

"Poseidon of the seas," Derek added. "Hades of the Underworld."

"Yeah, and they each had their power items. Zeus had his thunderbolts, Poseidon had his trident, and Hades..." Erica trailed off as she tried to remember the last item.

"The helmet. Of invisibility," Derek finished for her.

'He's so smart…' Stiles thought, dreamily, before snapping back to attention. "Okay, there! Clearly you need help remembering Hades' power item," Stiles looked around. "Oh! Here. Sea salt."

"Sea salt? Wouldn't that help me remember Poseidon more than Hades?" she asked, skeptically.

"Not if you think of it this way," he took one of her hands in his, pouring a bit of salt in her palm. "You can't see actual salt in the sea. The salt is  _invisible_ like Hades' helmet. Now lick the salt."

She did as she was told, making a face before laughing it off.

Stiles smiled. "See? Okay, now you try one."

"All right…" she gazed down the remaining items on her list. "Ooh Pele, the Hawaiian Goddess known for her hot temper. She was… expelled from her home because her sister thought her too ambitious. So… Pele," she looked at the items in front of Stiles and spotted the crystallized ginger, "she's a bit bitter and spicy like ginger."

"Yeah! That works!" Stiles smiled with pride, pulling out a piece and cutting a bit of it to give to Erica and Derek. "Okay, Derek, now you try one."

Derek glanced at the paper in Erica's hand, then at the items in front of him. "This cake flour," he said, grabbing the bag, "is like the Ketaki flower, which was shunned by Shiva for having lied to Vishnu."

Stiles laughed softly. "That one was easy. And you  _would_  pick one of the only things here you can't eat raw." He could at least show them the flour. The image of it itself would be enough for the technique to work. He tried to open the bag, frowning when it wouldn't come undone as easily as it should have.

"Here, let me help," Derek offered, holding his hand out for the bag.

"No, I almost got it," Stiles said, brows furrowing together. He  _didn't_  almost have it, but he felt a need to assert his masculinity in front of his mate.

Derek stood and came around the counter. "Stiles, let me-"

"Derek, I said I got-"

With a hard yank, Stiles ripped the top of the bag right open, causing the bag of flour to explode all over the kitchen… and all over Derek as well.

A loud gasp was heard as Erica watched on in surprise and pure amusement. Stiles looked horrified, guilty, as Derek stood frozen to the spot in shock, covered from his head to his waist in flour.

'Picture! Picture! Take. Picture.  _Now!_ ' With the mangled bag still cradled in one arm, Stiles reached for his phone and took a picture of his shocked friend.

" _Stiles_!" He made a grab for the phone, but Stiles did some fancy footwork to get away from him.

"I'm sorry! It was an accident!" He called over his shoulder, knowing Derek was trailing closely behind.

"Stiles, give me your phone!" Derek growled.

Stiles took in the trail of white they were making with each go around the couch. "You really shouldn't run after me when you're covered in flour, Derek! You're making a mess!"

This made Derek pause as Stiles silently cheered for the brief reprieve. He took the opportunity to e-mail the picture to himself so that if Derek  _did_  catch him and destroy his phone like he had full capability to do, at least he'd still have the picture to keep him company.

" _Stiles!_ " he heard Derek growl again. It made him briefly wonder if that were the way his voice would sound if Derek called out his name while climaxing. Or would it be a softer, more romantic 'Stiles', followed by heavy panting and sweet, sweet kisses as his hands ran up and down Stiles' sweat-slick skin, licking-

The sudden movement from the corner of his eye snapped him out of his thoughts as Derek approached. 'Uh oh. He does  _not_  look amused.' Stiles held up his free hand, stopping Derek's approach. "You can take my phone, but you and I both know that picture is mine no matter what you do to it. So, you can chase me some more as the bag in my arm slowly spills more  _or_  you can give up now and wash up while I willingly and apologetically clean your floor and kitchen whilst baking you some delicious ginger cookies as I had planned to begin with."

Derek was staring him down intensely. Finally, he gave in. "I don't want to see one  _speck_  of flour on my floor, Stiles," he snarled.

'Oh, my precious Sourwolf. Snarling and growling like the wolfy-wolf he is,' Stiles grinned, nodding in agreement.

Derek walked off to the bathroom, a cloud of white powder billowing in his trail.

Stiles had almost forgotten that Erica was there. It wasn't until she burst out into laughter that he even remembered the girl.

"Oh my God, that was  _hilarious_! You better send me a copy of that picture," she barked out.

Stiles laughed with her, but shook his head. "No way. He'll kill me if I do."

"Aw, man," she whined.

"Hey," he shrugged, setting the half-empty bag of flour onto the counter. "At least you have your memories." He arranged the ingredients, deciding to take care of the cookies first. He pre-heated the oven before turning to smile at her. "And in about fifteen minutes, you're about to have some excellent ginger cookies."

"Anything I can do to help?"

"Mmm…" Stiles looked around. "Oh I know! Here. Scramble this while I measure out the rest of the stuff," he said, handing her a small bowl, a fork, and an egg. "And here. Measure out two tablespoons of molasses and mix it with the egg."

Erica did as she was told while Stiles – quick with practice and skill – threw the rest of the ingredients into his mixing bowl. When ready for it, he motioned for her to add her mixture to his.

"Well aren't you the perfect little housewife?" Erica mused. "How long have you guys been living together?"

Stiles' eyebrows jumped up in surprise. "Oh, no. We don't live together," he clarified. "I mean, we did for like two days but that's only cause my apartment that I share with my other friend was getting a new ceiling."

It took Erica a second to register everything he had said. She cocked her head to the side, curious. "You don't live together, but you have a key? You guys must be close. How long have you known each other?"

Stiles just laughed nervously. "Um, well. Actually, we've only really known each other a few months now…"

"Oh," she frowned, letting that digest. Then she smiled. "Oh I get it. You guys must be dating then. Good for you, cutie pie. You snagged yourself a hot one. He's a little bit too grumpy for my taste, but hey. You can't deny he's one attractive beast."

He had to agree with her there. But he shook his head. "Actually, no. We're not dating either," he explained. "We're just friends."

Erica just sat there, dumbfounded. Stiles could practically see the thoughts running through the girl's head. He made no comment as he began to roll out little balls of the cookie dough and placing them on the cookie sheet.

"So, you're not dating," she reiterated. "How can you guys  _not_  be dating? I mean, I could've sworn that after that whole thing where he dragged you into our classroom – which was  _also_ hilarious, by the way – that someone  _had_  to have made a move after such a display of blatant masculinity and territorial possessiveness," she snickered at the memory. "And whenever he gets caught texting in class, he's always got this goofy little smile on his face and I know for a  _fact_ he's texting with you cause he always stares at that picture of you he's got on there and he only makes that goofy grin when he's looking at you."

Stiles felt his face flush as he sprinkled the sea salt over the cookie dough. "He does that?" He couldn't stop the smile crossing his features.

"He gets in trouble almost every day.  _Yes_ , he does that."

Stiles just placed the cookie sheet in the oven before washing his hands. The truth of the matter was that Stiles did that too. Of course, he was clearly much more slick about it having not been caught by any of his teachers thus far.

He heard the girl exhale deeply. "You guys are idiots. Where does he keep his broom? Let's clean this kitchen so  _hopefully_  we can get you laid tonight."

Okay. It was official. He  _really_  liked this Erica girl.

The two of them cleaned up the mess together. She opted to sweep up the kitchen while Stiles tackled the ring around the couch. They made small talk as they worked. He was grateful for her help because before he knew it, his phone was beeping, telling him it was time to take the cookies out of the oven.

"God, Stiles, those smell delicious."

"Here," he grabbed one, breaking it in half and blowing on them before tossing one half to her. "Try it when they're super fresh."

Stiles popped his half into his mouth just as she did, before sucking in a breath of air. "Hot, hot, hot!" He laughed when he realized she did the same. You'd think after all the years of baking he did, he'd know how hot his goodies were when they were fresh from the oven. You'd think it, but you'd be wrong. Stiles was just as enticed by the smells of his own baking as the next guy.

"You've got a little flour on your nose," Erica said, pointing to her own nose.

Stiles swiped at it. "Gone?"

"Hang on," she said, laughing at him as she grabbed a towel, splashed it with water and moving to wipe it for him. "There. Now gone."

"Thank you milady," Stiles smirked, giving her a slight bow.

"You're welcome, good sir," she curtsied.

Stiles laughed. This girl was  _amazing_. Boyd was one lucky guy.

Hearing someone's throat clear, Stiles looked over to see Derek fresh from his shower. His hair was still a little damp. It made Stiles want to run a warm towel all over it before draping his arms over Derek's shoulders and giving him endless Eskimo kisses. The idea warmed him more than any freshly baked cookie ever had.

"I think that's enough studying for today. Is it okay if we finish off the rest of the list tomorrow?" he asked Erica.

"Yeah, sure," she nodded, standing up and heading to the table to gather her things. "I need to get back to Boyd anyway. He's probably slacking off when he  _should_  be studying for his own finals."

'Sounds familiar…' Stiles inwardly flinched, realizing he bailed on his own studying to be here. "Oh here," he said, pulling a Tupperware container out of his bag and shoveling some cookies into it. "You should have some. I can make more for Derek, later."

"Actually, you should just take them all," Derek said, his voice fragmented. "I don't really like ginger anyway."

'What?' Stiles frowned, sensing something wrong. 'That's not true… I've made him gingerbread before and he  _devoured_ the stuff. Plus, he's never been much of a share-bear…' He studied Derek, trying to figure him out before moving to box up the rest of them for Erica. "Keep the lid off for a little bit to let them cool some more. You can just return the container tomorrow. I'll get it from Derek," he instructed.

She nodded in understanding, taking the box from him and heading to the door that Derek held open for her.

"See you tomorrow, Derek. You too, Stiles," she smiled, waving to them.

"Bye Erica. Enjoy the cookies," he waved in return, watching as she disappeared down the hall. 'Yay! Now it's just me and Derek!' He smiled over to his friend. "So? If not ginger, what can I make for you?"

"Actually, Stiles, I think you should go home, too."

The smile quickly fell from Stiles' face. 'What?' He tried to read Derek's expression, but the boy was solemn, eyes closed. Stiles felt a pang hit him in his chest. 'Is he angry? I mean, I know I made a mess, but he didn't seem  _angry_  angry…' Stiles swallowed the lump in his throat, finding his voice. "Derek… I said I was sorry. The flour… I didn't mean to-"

"I know you didn't," he said abruptly, cutting him off.

He furrowed his brows slightly, trying to find out where he had gone wrong. "And I got every speck of it just like you said. Erica helped me and we made sure that everything was clean."

Derek was still unmoved. "Thank you for that. I'm grateful-"

Even though he said it, his voice was still disjointed and it frustrated Stiles like no other. "You're not! You're mad!"

"Stiles, I'm not mad-"

"Then why won't you even look at me?" he asked, desperately. He needed to know what he had done so he could fix it. He  _needed_  to fix it. He didn't like what was happening.

Derek finally opened his eyes and trained passive eyes onto him. "Stiles, I'm not mad."

'So then smile for me and tell me everything's gonna be all right,' Stiles mentally cried. He racked his brain for anything Derek might've been upset over. "Look, if it's about the picture, if you really want, I'll delete it."

"I don't care about the picture as long as it stays with you."

"You know I wouldn't do anything mean with it."

"I know."

'It's not the picture and it's not the mess… he turned down my cookies… what's going on? Why is he angry? Did he not want me here? Did alone time with Erica mean that much to him?'

He heard Derek sigh, breaking through his thoughts. "Stiles, it's getting late-"

He frowned. "It's only 9:30-"

"I still have other classes I need to study for-"

"I can help you-" he tried.

" _Stiles_."

'Uh oh.' He knew that tone. It was the same his father used when he overstepped his boundaries. 'Did I overstep here?'

Derek sighed again. "I'll see you tomorrow, okay?"

'No,  _not_  okay. What happened? Please tell me so I can make it better…' He was about to say more, but Derek cut him off.

" _Okay_?"

Stiles inwardly flinched at the tone. It was anything but pleased. Stiles didn't want to leave. He wanted to stay and make things right. But Derek didn't seem to be in any mood to have Stiles around any longer. Not wanting to upset him any further, Stiles finally nodded. Without a word, he gathered his things, wishing he had time to wash the dishes lest it be an inconvenience for the older boy. Hiking his bag on his shoulder, he walked over to the door Derek still held open. He paused just in front of him. "Derek, I'm sorry-"

"I said it's okay, Stiles. There's nothing to be sorry about."

'He's lying,' Stiles immediately determined. He tried again to read Derek's expression, but still got nothing from him. "Tomorrow then?"

Derek just nodded.

"Night, Derek."

"Good night, Stiles."

Stiles finally moved into the hall, dragging his feet along the way. He heard the door close behind him, the sound of it loud to him in the quiet building. Stiles turned around, staring at the closed door, feeling sad and confused.

He replayed the events in his head from the time he walked through that door to the time he just walked out. 'What happened? I thought we were having fun,' he frowned, turning his eyes onto the carpet below his feet. 'No… now that I think about it, it was me and Erica having all the fun. I showed up, disrupted them, made a mess and just laughed about it. No wonder he's pissed.'

Stiles slowly made his way back to the door, laying his palm flat against its surface. He wanted to go back inside, to apologize for being a pest, to assure himself that he and Derek were still friends after his stupid mistake. Hell, he never even wanted to look at that picture ever again. It would only remind him of everything he was feeling now.

He leaned forward, pressing his forehead against the wood. 'Derek, I'm sorry. I didn't mean to make you mad. I just… I wanted to see you. To be near you. Please don't be mad at me…'

Stiles shut his eyes, fighting off the stinging sensation as he tried to calm himself down. 'Do you like her? Is that it? Is that why you chose her? Is that why you wanted to be alone with her?' The thought sent a wave of ache down every inch of his nerves. 'Did I disrupt more than just studying there?'

He couldn't fight off the surge of jealousy he felt at the idea. 'To him I'm probably just some annoying kid who won't leave him alone and who stares too much. He probably barely likes me as a friend, let alone as anything else… and now I interrupted whatever was going on in there and I bet Derek's wishing he never let me make this stupid key and that's a thing too, isn't it? He didn't even make the key. I just took it! Just another to add to the list of stupid, self-imposed things Stiles does to annoy Derek…' The thought made his heart clench.

"Derek…" he whispered, wishing he had just stayed put and never abused his key privilege. Finally, he took a step back to stare at the closed door once more. He restrained himself from wanting to go back in, to cause more damage than he already had. He willed himself away, forcing himself to go back down the elevator and make his way home, where he should have stayed instead of crashing their session.

"Hey buddy," Scott smiled as Stiles made his way back through the door to their apartment. His smile immediately faltered in seeing his friend's somber mood. He moved to stand in front of him. "What happened? Usually when you come back from Mr. Hale's you're grinning from ear-to-ear."

"Do you think I'm annoying?"

"What? Who said that? Did Mr. Hale say that?" Scott growled. He made his way to the door, slipping his feet into his sneakers.

"Scott, what are you doing?"

"I'm gonna kick his ass is what I'm doing."

"Scott, no. I just… I think maybe I made a mistake in going over there. I did something stupid and now I think he's mad at me."

Scott walked back over to his friend. "What happened?"

"That's the thing. I don't even really know!" His voice picked up, cracking a bit. "I thought we were having fun but then I accidentally got flour all over him and his kitchen and I may or may not have taken a picture of it, but I apologized for that and I cleaned up the mess and I baked him some cookies but he gave them away and he  _never_ gives them away. I have to practically  _pry_ a treat out of his hands if I want just a  _bite_  of a strudel that  _I_ made – but wait. Is that another imposition? Is he annoyed by that too? Anyway – he said he wasn't angry, but I don't know. I don't think he was telling me the truth. I think he really  _is_  mad at me for showing up and being a pain in the ass and-"

"Hey, hey…" Scott soothed, wrapping his arms around the distraught boy. "Calm down. Like you said, it was an  _accident_. You didn't mean to make a mess. And you apologized and you cleaned it. Those were all good things."

He buried his face in the familiar shoulder, taking comfort in its solidarity. "Now I'm thinking that maybe he just didn't want me around. Maybe I overstayed my welcome."

"Dude, Derek is crazy about you. Even  _I_  know that. He skipped classes to make sure you and your Dad were okay. The last thing he's thinking is that you're a pain in his ass. Maybe he was just having a bad day and wanted to turn in early."

"…Yeah, maybe," Stiles said, although he hardly believed it.

Scott took his friend by the shoulders and looked him in the eye. "Stiles, trust me. Just relax, sleep on it, and in the morning, you'll see Derek and realize you're freaking out over nothing. You have a tendency to get  _way_  too deep in your brain, nitpicking at every little thing. If he said he's not mad at you, then he's not mad. Just… chill. Tomorrow's a new day. Everything'll be better in the morning."

Stiles felt the corner of his lips tug up. Scott always made things better. And although he wasn't exactly at ease with the situation, he did feel better after his friend's reassurance. "Thanks Scott."

"No problem," he grinned.

"Now I wish I saved you some of those cookies."

Scott gasped in mock offense. "What? You didn't save me any cookies?! You had one job, Stiles. _One_ job!"

Stiles snickered. "'Fraid not. I gave them all to Erica. She helped me clean in an effort to help me get laid."

"Well in that case, those cookies were well deserved. But! You still better march your butt right into that kitchen and make me some. I'm upset right now and the only thing that'll make it better is some freshly baked goods. Chop chop."

Stiles couldn't help but laugh at his friend as he was manhandled into the kitchen.

Scott opened the fridge and pulled out a carton of eggs. "You need eggs, right? Eggs are a baking thing?"

"Yes, yes," he smiled, watching Scott move around the small space. He was aware of what Scott was trying to do: distract him from what had happened at Derek's place. And while it was working, it also gave Stiles an idea.

'Maybe… maybe tomorrow I can try to make it up to him. I know how much Derek likes lemon. So tomorrow, I'll make him all his favorite lemony treats,' Stiles decided, feeling the tension that weighed him down ease up just a bit. 'Baking lemon treats always makes Derek happy. Maybe it'll be just enough to make things all right.'

But for now, he had another special guy he needed to bake for. Any friend willing to go out and kick someone's ass while wearing pajama bottoms with penguins on them deserved cookies in Stiles' book. Scott was right. Tomorrow's a new day. And tomorrow, after a night of baking with his best friend, Stiles was ready to bake his way back into Derek's favor, ready to woo him with his favorite flavor.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Lol, please excuse that last line. Once I typed it out, I couldn't delete it. It's just so silly.
> 
> So a couple people asked to see Stiles' POV during this part, so here you go. Enjoy a bit of fretting à la Stiles Stilinski. I find the more I write Erica in here, the more I like her, even though she's causing so much trouble for both boys without even knowing it. Now with bonus broments with Scott, who I love dearly.


	4. From Interference Part III

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Isaac's POV during the second day of their winter vacation.

As fun as it had been, it had been a long day for Isaac Lahey.

When he woke up that morning, he was confused, discombobulated, and inexplicably  _cold._ He quickly realized that it was the force of his own shivers that actually caused him to stir. Once he cracked an eye open, he immediately figured out why.

Isaac jerked up with a start, instantly realizing it was a bad move as his bed began to teeter precariously. He froze in place, trying to keep his mattress from tipping him over.

'What the hell? Why am I in the pool?' He frowned, trying to get his wits about him. 'Someone must have pushed me in…' he realized. Glancing around, trying to find a means of escape, Isaac paused in seeing his audience. They all looked  _very_  amused. "Oh, ha ha," he mocked. ' _Real_ funny. Pushing a guy out into the cold. Yes, smile contently in the warmth of the house. Yuk it up.' Isaac shook his head at his so-called friends. "Someone get me out of here! It's cold!"

He watched as Derek made his way out. 'Ah, Derek. I always knew I liked Derek.'

The older boy stopped at the edge of the pool, smirking down at him. He made no immediate move to help Isaac out. Instead, he just grinned. "Quite the predicament, huh?"

Taking in his smugness and the pleased look on his face, it clicked. 'No.  _Derek?_ ' He gasped. " _You_ did this?" Isaac didn't think Derek had it in him. So while he was annoyed that he was currently freezing his ass off, he was actually quite amused that  _Derek_ was the one who made it so. 'So the big guy's got a sense of humor after all...' Isaac mused, pulling his blanket in tighter. "Well what are you waiting for? Help me out," he said, sticking his hand in the water and splashing some water in Derek's direction. 'Oh shit, that's  _really_  cold…' Isaac frowned, breathing on his hand to try to warm it back up.

"You know, Jackson's in there hoping you fall in," Derek said.

'That doesn't surprise me,' Isaac rolled his eyes, glancing at the smug blonde still watching from inside.

"I have no problem obliging."

Isaac cocked an eyebrow at that, turning his gaze back to Derek only to be met with a cold glare. He mentally winced. 'Oops, is he mad at me? Maybe… I guess I teased him a little too much last night… Is  _that_  why he did it? Cause he's mad at me?' Isaac lowered his head, feeling just a bit worried. He didn't want the older boy to be upset with him. "All right, all right. Help me out, _please_?"

'He'll probably say 'no.' He'll probably leave me out here, make me paddle my way to the edge and even if I get out, he'll probably lock the sliding door, just for good measure.' It wasn't something that would surprise Isaac. It was actually quite reminiscent of his father.

But what  _did_  surprise him was when Derek picked up the leaf sweeper and held it out to him, like extending out a proverbial olive branch. Isaac smiled, feeling a bit of relief. He grabbed it as Derek pulled him back in from the middle of the pool. He felt even more relief when Derek even offered him a hand to pull him off his makeshift raft.

Now that he was back on land – and at least somewhat sure that he hadn't royally pissed Derek off – Isaac had to laugh, patting the older boy on the back. "Man, you're cruel. What if I  _did_  fall in?"

"Don't worry. I watched an episode of Man Vs. Wild. I know what to do in this situation. The water's not frozen on top so that's a good sign right there."

Derek was just full of surprises. Isaac shook his head in amusement. "Am I allowed to go inside now? I'm freezing my ass off."

Again, Isaac mentally prepared himself for a 'no.' He even braced himself in case Derek felt like pushing him back in the pool just for kicks. But he got neither. The tension he felt eased in seeing the older boy smirking at him. Without a word, Derek led the way back inside to the comfort and warmth of the house.

Isaac breathed a sigh of relief. Yeah. He always knew he liked Derek.

/\/\/\

Snowboarding was fun. To Isaac, it felt good to just glide down the mountain, wind whipping across his cheeks as he zipped past the trees. It was exhilarating, made only more fun as he went down the trails with his friends. Jackson, ever the show-off, always wanted to make it down the hill first. Fortunately, Stiles was with them, so naturally, a competition between the two took place.

Isaac watched in amusement as the two raced down the hill, each daring to cross each other's path in attempts to throw the other. Stiles managed to spook Jackson enough to make the boy tumble over. It was a moment filled with laughter and curse words too obscene for children under thirteen.

But of course, their competition had to end once Stiles and Allison realized that Derek and Scott's lesson was done. Jackson counted it as a win for himself, but everyone knew who the real winner was.

Isaac was really enjoying himself. He liked having Danny and Lydia to snowboard with – Jackson was, at best,  _tolerable_. He only hoped that he'd at least get to go on one run with the person he really wanted to board with. Making good memories was important to Isaac, and having a chance to zip down the mountain with Scott seemed like a pretty good one to him.

Every so often, Isaac would catch a glimpse of Scott on the hill. At first, the boy seemed pretty unstable. It made Isaac want to go over to him and offer some help. But as the morning wore on, whenever Isaac spotted him, he seemed to be doing better and better with each run. It made Isaac proud of his friend.

But it seemed his other friend wasn't faring as well. Derek was a complete and utter mess. It was surprising. 'Funny,' Isaac thought to himself as he sat in the snow, waiting near the lifts for Lydia and Danny, who had no problem enjoying a mild-paced run. 'I would've thought he'd be good at this. Or at least  _better_  than what he's actually like.'

Isaac chuckled to himself every time he saw Derek tumble into the snow. 'He's gonna feel that tomorrow,' he snickered. But, ever the observant one, Isaac didn't miss how Stiles would glide on over to the fallen boy, helping him right back up. And he certainly didn't miss the way Derek kept his hands on the boy's waist even when he was already standing stable. 'Sneaky, sneaky, sneaky…' Isaac mused.

" _God_ , where  _are_  they?" Jackson groaned, collapsing into the snow next to Isaac. "We could've gone up by now and probably  _still_ would have passed them on the hill."

Isaac looked over to Jackson, amused, yet curious as to how this guy could be so childish sometimes. "I think they might be planning out this whole lunch date thing for Stiles and Derek."

Jackson rolled his eyes. "They shouldn't  _have_  to. Those two idiots just need to take their heads out of their asses and just fuck already."

Isaac mentally winced at his friend's colorful language. "I can kinda see where they're coming from, though. They've got a pretty good friendship going on. They don't want to screw it up by complicating things or admitting feelings that they're not even sure are returned."

"How can they  _not_  be sure? Stiles drools over the guy every second they're together and Derek freaking threatens to kill people with a single look if they even get  _close_  to Stiles."

Isaac snickered. He wasn't wrong.

"Forget it," Jackson grumbled, getting back up on his feet. "Come on, Lahey. We're leaving without them."

Isaac looked at the hand held out to him and allowed himself to be pulled up.

They didn't actually pass Danny and Lydia on the hill, but it seemed pretty close. It was approaching noon and Lydia thought it was time to put her plan into action. Isaac didn't really know the details of it. There was some trickery involved, where they all planned to go to once place but then a few decided to go elsewhere until all that was left were the two, but beyond that, Isaac hadn't really been paying attention. He had been much too distracted when it was brought up to him that he would be snowboarding alongside Scott. It was what he had been secretly hoping for all morning.

"I saw you a couple times, Isaac. You're really good," Scott smiled, sitting next to him as they waited patiently for the lift to take them up the hill.

"Oh, um, thanks." It was easy to hide a blush under such big goggles. 'That means he was watching me…' He had to strain to keep from grinning outwardly. He tried to be rational. 'Calm down, Lahey. He was probably watching everyone…'

"So you've done this before?"

"Yeah," he nodded. "My dad took me and brother up once. After that, me and Cam drove up a few times every winter. He was a much better rider than me."

"I bet he looked pretty awesome on a snowboard."

Isaac smiled, remembering his brother fondly. "He did."

Scott placed a hand of top of Isaac's, a gesture of sympathy and a huge comfort the blonde boy.

It was moments like these, amidst the fun times he had with his friends, that Isaac remembered his brother. Camden was a great older brother, practically the golden child of the family, which was probably why their dad took his death so hard. After Camden's death, things just spiraled out of control for the elder Lahey, often taking out his anger and depression on his younger son. But Isaac learned to forget those things; to forget the bad times and focus on the good memories he had. Which is why it was so important to him that he made as many good ones as he could.

Once they were off the lift, they positioned themselves at the edge of slope.

"Ready?" Scott grinned, locking his foot in place on his board.

Isaac smiled. "Ready."

Scott led the way, easing down the mountain as if he had been doing it for years. It was a big improvement from where he had started today. Hell, Isaac wouldn't have even guessed that this was Scott's first time out. He was just about to move in, to follow behind his friend, when Scott looked over his shoulder back up to where Isaac was and flashed him another smile.

Isaac had just been standing there on an even surface. He hadn't even moved. So he was wondering how it was possible that he was now face-first in the snow.

'Smooth, Lahey. Real smooth,' he chided. Picking himself up, he glanced over and growled in frustration. Scott had seen the whole thing. The boy had come to a stop no more than fifty feet away and was now looking up to where Isaac was.

'Just play it off. No big deal. Just go over there and act cool…' Isaac mentored himself before making his way over to Scott.

"Hey man, are you all right?" Scott asked, concerned as Isaac came to a stop next to him.

"Yeah," Isaac said, clearing his throat. "It was just… uneven…" he lied. "No big deal."

Scott smiled in relief. He pulled his glove off, before bringing his hand up to Isaac's hair. "You've got some snow…"

Isaac again found himself grateful for the enlarged goggles on his face. He did his best to keep from leaning into the touch, into the fingers running through his hair.

"Your hair is really curly," Scott noted, wistfully. After a few moments, he just smiled again, slipping his hand back into his glove. "You ready?"

Isaac suddenly remembered it would be a good idea to breathe. He nodded. "Yea-oh!"

And again, Isaac found himself tumbling in the snow. 'Is this what  _Derek's_  going through?' he had to wonder. He heard Scott chuckling.

"Isaac, I thought you were supposed to be good at this."

He scrambled for an excuse. "I'm  _hungry_. My hunger is making me  _clumsy_ ," he defended.

Scott just laughed again before bending down to help his friend up.

Back on two legs, Isaac felt flushed, suddenly taking in how closely Scott was standing next to him, how firmly his hands were holding his waist. 'Is  _this_  what Derek's going through?' He had to ask, quickly dropping his hands down to his sides. Scott, on the other hand, took a few more seconds to make sure Isaac was stable before releasing his hold.

Isaac cleared his throat again, reigning in his desire to just kiss Scott. That would lead to no good. "I-um. I'm good. Let's… go." He chuckled, punching Scott lightly on the shoulder. "At this rate, the others are probably waiting at the bottom of the hill, huh?"

Scott laughed. "Dude, whose fault is  _that_?" And with that, Scott turned his board back downhill, zipping down the trail, slicing through the snow.

Isaac sighed, watching him go, wishing he would stay. " _Yours_ ," he murmured into the cold mountain air. Without another word, he followed Scott back down to where their friends were waiting as he tried to forget the feelings fluttering in his stomach. It was okay. Forgetting these things was something Isaac had learned to do long ago.

/\/\/\

Isaac liked to think of himself as a perceptive person. He liked to sometimes just sit back and take in his surroundings, watching people go about their business, as he was doing at the ice skating rink. He had watched a mother go out on the ice and teach her daughter to skate for the first time. He had watched a group of boys race each other around the track. He was currently watching as a boy flitted somewhat closely behind a girl, likely done in by her pretty looks and charming smile. Problem was, that girl was Allison.

The blonde stood up from where he had been taking a rest. He walked out onto the ice and skated over to where Allison was, taking her hand in his, smiling down at her when she looked up in surprise.

Allison just smiled warmly, patting Isaac's arm while continuing to skate with him, hand-in-hand.

This gave him the opportunity to look over his shoulder, to glare at the boy who had been eyeing his friend. Allison was taken and Isaac was going to make damn sure that everyone knew that; even if she wasn't taken by him.

Though technically she was his rival, more importantly, Allison was Isaac's friend. And although she was the reason why Scott wasn't single, she  _was_  the reason why Scott was happy. And that was all the reason Isaac needed to watch out for the girl when Scott wasn't around to do it himself.

"I see Hawkeye climbed down from his perch," the girl mused.

Isaac snorted. "How many times did Scott make you watch the Avengers?"

She laughed. "I think maybe about… twelve. But to be fair, I had already watched it four times on my own."

Isaac smiled, amused by how well she and Scott were together. It was only someone like Allison that Isaac thought worthy enough for Scott's love. "I only came down to make sure the hounds are kept at bay."

Allison smirked. "Why, thank you, Isaac. Now I suppose I don't have to shoot that guy with my taser."

"You brought that  _with_  you?"

"It's always good to come prepared."

Isaac laughed. "Now I wish I would have just kept on the sidelines."

"Hey now. I'm sure Scott will appreciate you sticking up for his girlfriend. I appreciate it, too," she smiled, hugging Isaac's arm. "Besides," she added, "the night's young. And there's a chance that  _Jackson_  might do something taser worthy."

Yeah. If there was anyone Isaac could step aside for, it was her.

/\/\/\

Isaac was ready for a nice, long sleep after his fun-filled day. With a smirk, he dragged his  _dry_  air mattress into the den, to make it harder for Derek should he try a repeat performance of the morning's prank. When he closed his eyes to finally catch some Zs, the last thing he was expecting was to have someone dropped on top of him just a few short hours later.

"What? What's going on?" he yelped, jerking up in alarm as he tried to take in his surroundings through the darkness.

"He's your problem now."

He glanced over to where the voice had come from. It was Derek. Confused, he looked down into his lap to see Scott fumbling with the blanket to try to crawl underneath. ' _Scott_?'

"What…?" he had started to ask Derek, but the older boy was already gone.

'Oh his hands are moving. His  _hands_  are  _moving!_ ' Isaac tried to calm down as he felt those pesky palms slide across his body. Isaac grabbed Scott's wrists, stopping their progression as the boy simply urged Isaac to lie back down so that he could use him as a pillow. Considering his behavior, Scott was either drunk or dead tired. Unable to smell any alcohol on him, it seemed it was the latter.

"Isaac," Scott mumbled. "Y'r hair is r'lly r'lly curly…"

Isaac flushed. 'What is it with him and my hair?' he had to wonder, before those hands started moving again. "Scott? Buddy? How about I move you to Allison's room, huh? We like Allison, right?"

The boy closed his eyes grinned, resting his head on Isaac's chest. "Mm-hmm. Is okay though… We like Isaac too..." He nuzzled into the warm chest, wrapping his arms around it and draping a leg over Isaac's thigh.

Isaac was startled. "Wait, what? What does that  _mean_? Scott?  _Scott?_ "

Unfortunately, the boy had finally passed out, those warm and pesky hands somehow finding their way up Isaac's shirt to caress his skin.

Isaac sunk back against his pillow, letting out a heavy sigh. 'This can't be good… Maybe I should just take him upstairs myself. Thanks a  _lot_ , Derek…'

He shifted, ready to get up and carry the sleeping Scott upstairs. 'But…'

There was no denying Isaac found himself getting very comfortable having Scott pressed against him. He had wanted a chance to hold him like this for a long time now. So despite the rational part of his brain telling him this wasn't fair to Allison, he decided to just let go.

'For tonight, then… just tonight. Maybe I can pretend you're mine… and in the morning, I'll forget this. In the morning, you can go back to Allison. But just for tonight… please be mine…'

Isaac sighed in content, nuzzling the soft mop of hair. He encircled Scott, gently running his hands up and down his back, listening to the boy's soft snores. Lulled by the sound and the warmth emitting from the boy, Isaac finally closed his eyes, letting sleep overcome him.

As fun as it was, it had been a long day for Isaac Lahey. And in light of recent events, Isaac hoped beyond hope that the night would be just as long.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Isaac Lahey… I feel bad for him. He's like a kicked puppy that still comes timidly back because of his want and need for affection. Like, he'll take all the abuse that's given to him because then at least it means he's not alone. Gah! Isaac feels! Poor puppy.
> 
> Why do you people ask for these things?! Why do you want to see Isaac sad? (Probably cause you don't want to see him sad and were looking for some happy Scisaac feels instead but I gave you this oh no I'm sorry DX). It's okay though. Cause it seems Derek's not the only sneaky, sneaky, sneaky one.
> 
> On another note, wow. You guys really like requesting stuff.


	5. From Unplanned

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Stiles' POV that night at the beach with Derek.

"I am going to  _demolish_  you."

The clerk looked at Stiles like he was nuts – which, considering he was talking to a bag of cookies, he very well could be.

Stiles grinned sheepishly at the man behind the counter. "No, no. I was talking to the Oreos."

The clerk cocked an eyebrow, as if to say 'like that's any better?' but said nothing and just rang the boy up.

It was about half an hour to midnight when Stiles decided to slip out of his apartment to fulfill his craving for the cookie sandwich. And of course, once you have Oreos, you've got to have milk. So after paying the judgmental clerk, Stiles was eagerly making his way back home from the convenience store to 'demolish' the cookies, just as he had said.

'Yum yum Oreos taste so good. Can't eat just one of them. Who the hell could~?' Stiles mentally freestyled, swinging his bag merrily as he made his way home. 'Cookie on top and cookie underneath. Eat the yummy cookie, get cookie on your teeth~'

Stiles was just about to break into another verse when he spotted a car across the street. 'Hey! That looks like Derek's car! All sexy and sleek and shiny and… hey, is there someone inside?' From where he was standing, Stiles could swear there was someone moving around in there. 'You know, this is how most of those serial killer movies start. Some poor innocent sap just walking home while their stalker watches them from their car… Okay, no. Too spooky!' Stiles thought with a shiver down his spine. 'All right, Stiles. Just go upstairs, eat your Oreos and hide them from Scott and… hey, what if it  _is_  Derek?'

Well this just about changed everything. At the thought of his surly friend, Stiles smiled and was ready to skip across the street to visit him. 'Buuuuuut…' Stiles restrained himself, wanting to be cautious. 'On the off chance that it  _is_  a serial killer, maybe I should take a little precaution. My daddy didn't raise no fool!' He mentally snickered before pulling out his phone and sliding it into the pocket of his hoodie, wrapping his hand around it in case he needed to make an emergency call. 'In all likelihood, it's just some guy who pulled over cause he's lost or something,' Stiles rationalized while making his way across the street. 'He's lucky that I'm awake so I can help him.'

The closer Stiles got, the more he could see of the guy. 'Is… is that a leather jacket? …That hair… could it actually  _be_  Derek?' The thought made Stiles' heart pound.

The guy was currently slumped over his steering wheel so Stiles knocked on the window to get his attention. Despite all his speculation, he gasped in surprise. It really  _was_  Derek.

"Derek? I thought this was your car," Stiles smiled. He saw Derek push a button – the door lock if he remembered clearly that one time he was touching everything in Derek's car. 'Does he want me to come in?' He pointed to the other side of the car and mentally cheered when Derek nodded.

Stiles opened the door and set his milk and cookies on the floor before taking a seat. "Hey, whatcha doing here?"

"I was just… driving…"

Stiles cocked an eyebrow. Now, while Derek was never the perkiest guy in the bunch, there was something off about him. He looked a little far away. It made Stiles a bit worried about his friend. 'I hope everything's okay…'

"Why aren't you asleep?"

He almost missed the question, his voice was so low. "Hm? Me? I told you, I don't sleep much. I actually went out to buy some midnight snackage," he smiled. He picked up his bag to show him. "Don't tell Scott though. I nag him about eating healthy so he'd probably maim me if he know about the Oreos I plan to demolish," he chuckled.

Derek didn't respond. It made Stiles wonder if he even heard him. It concerned him. Derek wasn't a very talkative person, but it wasn't like he was a brick wall. Derek had little quirks to let Stiles know he was listening. Maybe he was unaware of them himself, but they  _were_  there. Often, Derek talked with his eyebrows, furrowing them when Stiles made a reference to something he didn't understand or cocking one in skepticism. Sometimes his eyes would narrow when he heard something he didn't like, or rolled them when he heard something he didn't like but was still slightly amused by. But getting nothing, not even the slightest hint of a nod was just eerie. It made Stiles worry.

"Derek? You okay?" he asked, touching his arm gently. He could feel the muscles in his forearm tense, as Derek's hands clenched the steering wheel.

"I'm fine. Everything's fine."

The answer was forced. Robotic. Stiles instantly knew that everything was  _not_  fine. And if anything was upsetting Derek, Stiles made it his mission to fix it. So, with a nod, Stiles reached over and buckled his seatbelt. "Okay. Let's go."

Derek finally looked at him. "What?" he asked, slightly dazed and confused.

"Let's go," Stiles repeated. "Wherever you want. It'll be our little midnight adventure," he smiled.

"Stiles-"

'No, no,' Stiles mentally berated. 'Don't you dare try to brush me off.' " _Wherever_  you want," he said again, looking Derek in the eye, wanting him to  _know_  that whatever it was he was dealing with right now, Stiles was  _not_  going to let him deal with it alone.

For a few seconds Derek was silent again, just staring out the windshield. Again, it made Stiles wonder if he had been heard. But through the dim streetlights, he could see the way Derek's jaw was clenching, letting him know that the older boy was mulling things through. Then, finally, he turned the key in the ignition and began to drive.

Stiles spent the entire car ride talking nonsense. Usually when he went into these streams of thoughts, Derek would add a little input here and there. But tonight was different. Again, Derek wasn't responding in his usual manner, but since he hadn't told Stiles to shut up, the younger boy thought it was okay if he just kept going. Stiles watched curiously out the window as Derek drove them out of the town and through the hills. He didn't immediately recognize where they were going.

'Heh… what if Derek  _is_  a serial killer…?' Stiles thought morbidly, then mentally berated himself. Whatever was going on with Derek, he hardly thought it was time to joke about it.

They had been driving a good amount of time before the car finally came to a stop. Stiles leaned forward, taking in their location, a little surprised to find they were at the beach. Not surprisingly, it was void of beachgoers, the only movement were the waves crashing against the shore. Stiles waited for Derek to make the first move, but the way he was just sitting there, staring out at the waves, it didn't seem like that was going to happen any time soon.

'Derek… I wish you would open up. Tell me what's bothering you. I'll help you. I'll fix it…' The last thing Stiles wanted, though, was to push his older friend into anything he didn't want to do. He wasn't exactly sure that Derek even wanted to step out of the car. 'Maybe he just wanted to watch the waves?' Stiles wondered. But, taking a chance and hoping it was what Derek had in mind, Stiles started to untie his shoes.

When Derek looked at him curiously, Stiles just smiled. "If we're gonna be at the beach, I don't wanna get sand in my shoes."

Stiles took off his shoes and socks before rolling up his jeans so that he wouldn't get sand on those either. Then, when he was done, he looked to Derek, urging him to do the same.

Again, it didn't look like Derek was going to make a move. 'That's okay,' Stiles thought. 'I will sit with you until you're ready.' He didn't have to wait very long. Derek took off his shoes as well, stuffing his socks in them and rolling up his jeans just as Stiles had. 'There we go…' Stiles inwardly smiled.

Derek finally stepped out of the car and walked out onto the sand. Stiles followed behind after grabbing his milk and Oreos. Looking at Derek stroll across the beach in the soft glow of the moon and listening to the waves crashing against the shore was certainly a breath-taking scene to Stiles. 'Even at night, he looks so cool… how are you even  _real_?' he had to wonder.

Stiles looked up at the moon, needing to distract himself from the beauty in front of him. "God," he breathed. "The moon looks amazing."

Derek didn't respond, but Stiles knew he had heard him when his gaze angled up at the glowing orb. Looking at the moon hadn't helped. Seeing Derek's face in the moonlight only made him look even more surreal.

The older boy took a seat in the sand. Stiles briefly wondered if he should give Derek some space or if he wouldn't mind the company. Hoping he was making the right choice, Stiles took a seat next to Derek. When he wasn't rebuked in any way, Stiles breathed a sigh of relief in hopefully making the right choice.

Finally cracking the bag of Oreos open, Stiles twisted the two sides apart, just as his mother had taught him, before eating the pieces individually. He was only half-aware of Derek's eyes on him as he finished it off before holding up the container to offer the older boy a cookie. 'I wonder if he's a twist and lick type of person. Or maybe he likes to dunk his in milk first. Or maybe he's like me and eats each piece separately.'

Derek proved him wrong and just bit right in.

'Of all the ways, he just bites right in!' Stiles gaped. "Ugh. Brute," he murmured.

Derek frowned. "What? Cause there's a wrong way to eat an Oreo?"

Stiles scoffed. "Technically no, but if there were, it'd be  _that_."

Derek didn't reply, and instead just took another cookie.

Stiles picked up another one for himself. He thought back to his little freestyle he made up on the way home from the convenience store. "You know, I love Oreos. But there's one downfall to eating them."

"And what is that?"

"They make the biggest mess of your teeth." Stiles flashed Derek a grin to prove his point. He could actually  _feel_  the mess the cookies had left. His moment of silliness proved worth it when Derek finally laughed. The sound of it warmed Stiles' heart. "Ha!" Stiles laughed once he spotted the mess of Derek's own teeth. "It got you too!" Hoping it would help wash away the crumbly mess, he pulled out his milk and drank some before passing it over to share with his friend. Stiles did his best to clean his teeth, showing them to Derek. "Did I get it all?"

Derek nodded before showing his own teeth to Stiles.

The boy nodded. "Yeah, you're good."

Derek was chuckling again, assuring Stiles that he was doing something right. They sat quietly on the beach, eating Oreos and drinking milk, blanketed in the moonlight while listening to the ebb and flow of the tide. It was peaceful. It made Stiles hope that whatever it was that was bothering his friend was slowly slipping away.

"My sister called. Everything was perfectly fine and then she called me."

Stiles was almost startled by the sound of Derek's voice. He had been so quiet up until now. He turned to look at him, mentally urging him to continue.

He heard him exhale. "My parents died today… seven years ago…"

'Oh…' Stiles thought somberly, finally understanding his friend's mood. He placed a hand on Derek's shoulder and gave it a comforting squeeze. "Derek… I'm sorry…"

The older boy looked out over the water. "Everything was fine," he repeated. "I just… I didn't want to forget what today was, but I just didn't… I didn't want to be reminded of it."

Stiles understood the feeling. With his own mother's death, he never wanted forget her, but a yearly reminder of the fact that she was gone was tortuous. And considering how normal Derek had been acting in the day, it seemed that this call from his sister served Derek with that very reminder.

"But it's not like I can ignore Laura," Derek continued, voice bitter. "She's done practically everything for me ever since it happened. She and Peter are all I have left. And I was fine. And then she called. And it's okay for her to remember cause she's got her fiancé, and dammit, even Peter knows not to call me cause I can't… I can't… do this… not when I'm out here by myself…"

Stiles' heart broke for his friend. He understood the importance of a support system. Since the day of his mom's passing, Stiles had Scott. Scott understood when Stiles needed a friend and when he needed to be left alone. He knew when to distract him or lend an ear when Stiles needed it most. Scott was his rock. If Stiles didn't have Scott, well… he very well might be feeling as helpless and alone as Derek felt right now.

But he wasn't alone. Not anymore. Stiles wanted Derek to know that. He scooted closer towards his friend, resting his head against his shoulder and rubbing his back in a – hopefully – soothing motion before slipping his hand around his waist in a half-hug. "You've got me," he tried. Hopefully it was enough. Hopefully  _he_  was enough. Derek didn't respond, but Stiles could feel the tension lessen in his friend.

They sat in silence for some time, listening to the waves lapping against the shore. 'There's still so much I don't know about him…' Stiles thought. And moreover, he found himself _wanting_  to know, but not out of sheer curiosity or his desire to complete the puzzle that was Derek Hale. He wanted to know because Derek was his friend. Stiles liked Derek, genuinely cared for him. He wasn't just another person who was in his life out of circumstance. Sure, that's how it had started. Stiles was just Derek's barista. But Derek had become more than just a customer. And the more Stiles spent time with him, the more he wanted Derek to be more than just an acquaintance. He wanted to be a friend to him, to keep him in his life even beyond their time together at school. He wanted Derek to be a part of his life and found himself hoping that Derek wanted the same.

But to get there, it would take time. And trust. And maybe… maybe Derek trusted Stiles enough to open up a little more.

"How did they die?" he asked, curious, but also wanting to give Derek an outlet. He expected the question to be brushed off, especially if Derek didn't feel comfortable enough to talk about it. He wasn't even sure if Derek heard, especially when the boy started to play with the sand, but finally, he spoke.

"There was a fire. They were trapped inside our house while Laura and I were at school."

'Oh wow…' Stiles' breath stilled, shocked. 'Wait… that was  _his_ family _?_ ' He had found out that Derek was from Beacon Hills when he had Danny look him up, but he had no idea that it was  _his_ family in that fire. 'I remember my dad talking about it when it happened… said it was a real tragedy… oh Derek…'

"Everything was fine…" Derek continued, pain evident in his voice, drawing Stiles' attention back to him. "And then they pulled me and Laura out of class and the next thing I knew, the principal was telling me that my parents were dead. I was supposed to be worrying about school and prom and what type of junk to eat for lunch, not where was I gonna go or what was I gonna do without my home or my parents. The only way I managed to get through it was because of Laura and my uncle. Without them… I don't… I wouldn't have even…"

Stiles began to rub a comforting hand across his back again. 'Derek…' He just wanted to hold him and assure him that everything  _would_  be okay.

"Luckily, my uncle took us in to live with him in New York. I got my GED and took a few years off from school, not really knowing what to do from there. I just felt… lost… I spent my time just angry at the world. Angry at my parents for dying. Angry at myself for acting out the way I was. But Laura," he scoffed. "She literally beat some sense into me. Told me to get myself together. Told me to focus and move on. She brought me back to California with her so I could stop running from what happened. She even brought me back to the house – at least what's left of it. God… I was a mess that day… all the ash, the blackened porch… They had ruled the fire as accidental but I had always wondered if maybe they missed something. Just the smallest of things…"

Stiles turned his head, resting his chin on Derek's arm. "Is that why you got into criminology?"

Derek nodded slowly. "I guess so. I mean, I had always been interested in it… but I guess if I ever found myself in a similar situation as the detective on the case, I'd feel some sort of closure knowing I did my best to bring closure to someone else, you know?"

Stiles nodded. "Yeah. I get that."

The older boy sighed. "Maybe there's something wrong with me. Laura deals with it. She remembers what happened and she's stronger for it. Me… I just try to avoid it."

"Hey, there's nothing wrong with that," Stiles frowned. "It hurts. People cope with the pain in different ways."

"I don't want to avoid it… I just… I don't think I can handle it. I  _can't_  handle it. Look at me."

"Hey," Stiles said again, firmly, giving Derek a little shake. "We handle it the best we can."

"But I feel like I'm running away from it. Even now after all these years."

"Okay, then just stop running," Stiles said simply. Anticipating the oncoming pessimism, he cut him off. "No, hear me out. You remember what we did for my mom's death?"

"We played video games and made a mess of your kitchen."

"We  _baked_. And baking is something my mom did. Baking helps me remember her and the happiness it brought her whenever someone complimented her food. Baking is my way of remembering the good things. So… just find the good things to remember. What do you think of when you remember your parents?"

Derek exhaled heavily. "Fire. Death. Pain."

'No, no, no,' Stiles mentally groaned before bumping him on the side. "Come on. What's something you guys did together that made you happy? That made you a family?"

Derek thought about it. Then, "Baseball."

"Baseball? Yeah, okay. Baseball. We can work with that. What about baseball?"

"It was something my dad taught me. We would watch the games, rooting for our favorite teams. And when I played back when I was a kid, all of them were there to cheer me on." Derek chuckled, the sound pleasant to Stiles' ears. "I remember the first time I scored a home run. My mom stood up from the stands, screaming at the ball to get over the fence while my dad was waving his arm like he could push it along. Even Laura put down her phone and watched. And once it landed just outside the field, they were all standing, screaming their heads off." Derek smiled at the memory, making Stiles smile in return. "After that, my dad took us to get some pizza. And for dessert, we went to this place that made these soufflés that were the smoothest, creamiest things you can imagine. My parents shared a chocolate one while I got-"

"Lemon?" Stiles took an educated guessed.

"Yeah. Lemon."

"Well all right then," Stiles said. He stood up, brushing his backside of the sand sticking to his jeans. He bent down, grabbing Derek's arms, pulling him up. Once Derek was on two feet, Stiles jogged a few paces away before turning back to the older boy. He stood sideways, bringing his hands up in a cupping motion. "Next up to the plate is Derek 'Sourwolf' Hale! He's batting at .384 this year, not bad for the rookie."

Derek frowned, giving the boy an exasperated look. "Stiles, what are you doing?"

Stiles held his hands out as if it were obvious. "We're playing baseball. Come on. You're up." He resumed his pitcher's stance.

"Stiles-"

He didn't want to hear it. "Here comes the pitch!" He threw an imaginary ball in Derek's direction.

Derek just stood there, cocking an eyebrow. 'Come on, Derek,' Stiles mentally urged. 'This'll be good for you. Just try.' He waved his hand, encouraging Derek to react. After a moment, he finally got the older boy to react. It was half-hearted, but it was certainly better than nothing.

"Boo!" Stiles heckled, hoping it would be enough to shake Derek up a bit. "A clear strike for the rookie. Maybe if the pitcher were throwing  _cabbages_ , the rookie might actually hit something." He snickered at Derek's expense, but in seeing the boy getting serious – or at least getting serious about being playful – Stiles bit back a grin of elation. "Ahhh. What's this? Has the rookie finally decided to step his game up? Did he bring his big boy britches? Is he getting ready to get down in the big league? Will he-"

" _Stiles_."

"All right, all right. Here comes the pitch!" Stiles threw the imaginary ball, half-prepared to witness another lazy attempt, but was heartened to see Derek make an effort. Stiles cheered. "And there it goes! Out of the park! It's a grand slam! The crowd is going crazy! Aaaaahhhhhhh!" Unafraid of looking silly, Stiles threw his hands up in the air and started running around, stomping on invisible bases in the sand. "Sourwolf did it! He won the game! He won the pennant! He's going to Disneyland with his best buddy, Stilinator! Wooo hooooooo!" He circled Derek, making a fool of himself, but found he didn't care when a smile emerged on the older boy's lips.

"You're ridiculous."

Stiles gasped at the insult and deemed to make him pay for that. He jumped on Derek's back and momentarily regretted his action when it felt like Derek was about to tumble, but he recovered quickly, able to catch his balance under Stiles' sudden weight.

"That's no way to talk to the Stilinator!" Stiles growled out. He knew just how to make him pay. He went for the hair. Stiles didn't hold back as mussed up Derek's black locks, much to the latter's chagrin.

"Hey! Stiles! Stop!"

"Never! You must apologize to the Stilinator!" he declared.

He  _felt_  Derek growl underneath him. "All right then."

Before he could realize what he was doing, Derek took a firm hold on Stiles' thighs and jogged out over to the water. This didn't bode well for the barista. "Hey wait!" Stiles whined, trying futilely to detach himself, but Derek just wouldn't let go.

"No, no, no!" Stiles tried again as Derek stepped into the water and only then releasing the younger boy's legs. The sudden give, almost left Stiles tumbling into the water, but he quickly tightened his hold around Derek's neck, scrambling to wrap his legs around him too, to avoid falling in. "Ack! Cold!" He yelped, when his foot managed to dip in. The Pacific was relentless. He held on tighter, burying his face in Derek's neck. "Okay, okay. I won't mess up your perfect hair ever again, okay?"

This seemed enough for the older boy as his arms returned to support Stiles' weight. "Good." He didn't need to see Derek's face to know there was a smug smile on his lips. Just the thought of it, of knowing that his silly antics were enough to put it there, made Stiles smile all his own.

Derek continued to walk along the shore as Stiles relaxed his hold. He was quite enjoying his piggyback ride, the steady pace back towards the forgotten bag of Oreos underneath the pale moonlight. But he grinned again, his firm hold returning when Derek began to run. Stiles laughed, struggling to hang on the faster Derek went. He felt Derek grip his legs before spinning them in circles until he finally lost his balance, sending them tumbling into the sand. Stiles still laughed, enjoying the older boy's playfulness as he tried to catch his breath. He slumped back into the sand, splaying out as his gazed up at the stars.

Once their laughter died down, Derek turned on his side and surprised Stiles by wrapping his arms around his waist, pulling him in close. He rest his head on Stiles' chest, endearingly. Stiles glanced down, only able to see the mop of Derek's hair. He smiled softly before running his fingers once more through the soft locks. He idly massaged the scalp, hoping to soothe any remaining tension left his in friend.

They stayed like that for a while. Stiles was too content and feeling the brink of tiredness beginning to take over. Plus, the warmth of Derek pressed against him was more comfortable than any blanket he ever had before. As he caught his breath, he heard Derek's fall into a steady rhythm, and Stiles had to wonder if maybe Derek had fallen asleep himself. He wouldn't be surprised after the day he had. But he was proven wrong when he heard a small sigh emit from his friend.

"I really wanted to see you."

The words had startled Stiles. He froze in surprise as he glanced down once more, but continued massaging, hoping Derek would continue. He did.

"But… it was late. I thought you were sleeping… so just being close was good enough for me." Derek paused. "I thought… 'if Stiles were here, he'd know what to do.' And… there you were." He felt Derek hold him tighter, nuzzling slightly against his chest. "And you knew  _exactly_  what to do to make me feel better… I'm… I'm grateful for you… I'm  _really_  glad I got to see you…"

"Derek…" For the first time in a long time, Stiles was at a loss for words.

Derek was this guy that was more often than not, serious and strong. It took him by surprise sometimes that he had somehow managed to befriend the solemn man. But there had never been any doubt in Stiles' mind that maybe he placed more on their relationship than Derek did. He understood that it was his insistence that eventually got Derek to put his books away those mornings in the coffee shop, to ultimately participate in the friendship Stiles had wanted to build. He knew that  _he_  was the one pushing it, the one imposing on Derek's life. And he was only reminded of this fact when he had overheard him talking to his classmate, saying that they  _weren't_  friends, that he was  _just_  Derek's barista. And that had hurt. Stiles had really thought that they were more than that. He had thought that it wasn't just him - that  _Derek_  wanted to be friends too. The disappointment was a bitter pill to swallow.

And even when they made up after that, even after Derek did admit that they  _were_  friends, there was still no doubt in Stiles' mind that he was more invested than Derek was. That he looked forward to seeing and spending time with Derek more than Derek looked forward to seeing him. And Stiles was okay with that. He did his best to make it so that he didn't come off as clingy. He didn't want to smother Derek by always being around.

So to hear that… to hear that Derek  _wanted_  to see him, to spend time with him, it warmed Stiles' heart like no other. And the fact that it was  _this_ night – a night where Derek was distraught and vulnerable – that he wanted to be in Stiles' company spoke volumes. He trusted Stiles. In this moment, he relied on Stiles as much as Stiles on Scott. Just as Stiles believed Scott knew how to handle him - to know when to be there or when to give him space, or to distract him or lend him a comforting shoulder - Derek believed in Stiles. And it was proof to Stiles that maybe Derek was just as invested in his friendship with Stiles as Stiles was with Derek.

The fact was enough to warm Stiles' heart, despite the chill in the air. It was enough to let him know he was doing something right.

And hoping once more that it would be okay, Stiles shifted in the sand, turning onto his side to wrap his arms around Derek's shoulders. He knew that the older boy was more than capable of protecting himself, handling Stiles' would-be attacker with ease. But Stiles wanted nothing more than to be able to protect Derek in this moment. To keep the bad feelings at bay. He wanted to tackle all feelings of loneliness, erase all traces of sadness, and be everything Derek needed to get through the night. He wanted to protect Derek from the pain of his memories, kick their asses until there was nothing left but the good ones. And if in the end, all it did was to solidify their friendship even the  _slightest_ , well… then that was more than enough to make it worth it.

Wrapped in a cocoon of warmth, Stiles fell asleep, holding the man very dear to his heart, determined even through his slumber to make sure Derek knew that he was safe. That he could trust Stiles. That he'd never have to feel lonely again.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Stiles is a good friend. I think he'd be an awesome type of friend to have around. Loyal to a fault. And that's actually the very type of friend Derek needs. Gah, feels...


End file.
